Chapter 4:Shadows between us

Morning light poured through Scarlett’s office windows, but she didn’t look at it. She sat behind her desk, fingers tapping slowly on polished wood. Her assistant entered quietly, carrying a folder.

“Miss Voss, the information you asked for.”

Scarlett lifted her gaze — sharp, calm, dangerous. “Put it down.”

The assistant placed the file carefully on the desk and stepped back, waiting. Scarlett opened it. Inside were photos — Elena Russo, smiling beside her fiancé Raphael, another picture of her at a charity event, one at her workplace. Notes about her address, her parents, her education. Everything.

“Engaged to Raphael DeLuca,” Scarlett read aloud. “Architect. Stable job. No criminal ties.”

Her lips curved slightly. “How boring.”

“Should I dig deeper?” the assistant asked.

Scarlett closed the folder. “No. I’ll handle the rest myself.”

When the assistant left, Scarlett leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs. Her eyes lingered on Elena’s photo — that soft expression, those unsure eyes.

She whispered to herself, “You don’t belong in that world, Elena. You belong in mine.”

---

That same afternoon, Elena was at a small café downtown, working through wedding details on her tablet. She tried to focus on floral colors and table settings, but her mind drifted. Every time she thought she was calm, a memory slipped through — Scarlett’s voice, low and confident, saying her name.

She sighed, frustrated. “What’s wrong with me?” she muttered under her breath.

Her phone buzzed. A text from Raphael:

> Working late tonight, babe. Don’t wait up.

She smiled faintly, typing back a quick reply. But as she set her phone down, she felt it — that strange chill. The sensation that someone was watching her.

Elena turned slightly, scanning the café. People were chatting, sipping coffee, laughing. Everything looked normal. But her chest felt tight.

Outside, parked across the street, a black car sat with tinted windows. Inside, one of Scarlett’s men watched her through dark sunglasses, phone pressed to his ear.

“She’s here,” he murmured.

Scarlett’s voice came through the line — calm and collected. “Good. Keep your distance. I want to see her myself.”

---

Hours later, as evening fell, Elena left the café and began walking home. The streets were quiet, a soft wind carrying the city’s faint hum. She wrapped her coat tighter around her and checked her phone again — no new messages.

Then she saw it.

A sleek black car parked at the corner. The same one she’d seen outside the café.

Her steps slowed. Her heartbeat picked up. She told herself it was nothing — probably just someone waiting. Still, she crossed the street and took a longer route home.

When she reached her building, she felt a strange pull to look back — and there she was.

Scarlett.

Leaning against her car, dressed in a dark coat, cigarette between her fingers. The streetlight painted her face in gold and shadow. She looked calm, dangerous, beautiful.

Elena froze. “Scarlett?”

Scarlett smirked slightly. “You remember me.”

Elena’s pulse jumped. “What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood.” Her tone was smooth, cold — like a lie she didn’t care to hide.

Elena swallowed. “You followed me?”

Scarlett took a slow drag of her cigarette, the ember glowing. “Maybe. Or maybe I just wanted to see you again.” She exhaled smoke that curled between them. “You didn’t seem finished the other night.”

Elena frowned, her voice trembling slightly. “You don’t even know me.”

Scarlett stepped closer, her heels clicking against the pavement. “That’s what I’m trying to change.”

Elena’s breath hitched. The air between them felt thick — part danger, part attraction she couldn’t explain.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Elena whispered.

Scarlett’s eyes softened for a split second, then hardened again. “I go where I want.”

Elena looked away, unable to meet that gaze for long. “My fiancé—”

“Raphael,” Scarlett interrupted, her voice slow, deliberate. “Yes. I know.”

Elena’s head snapped up. “You— you know him?”

Scarlett smirked. “I know about him.”

“Why would you—”

“Because you interest me,” Scarlett said, stepping even closer. “And I always find out what I want to know.”

Elena’s throat went dry. Scarlett stood inches away now, close enough for Elena to smell the faint trace of her perfume — expensive, dark, intoxicating.

Scarlett looked at her like she was reading her soul. “Tell me, Elena,” she murmured, her tone low. “When you think of me, do you blush like that too?”

Elena’s face burned. “You’re insane,” she whispered.

Scarlett smiled faintly, her voice almost a purr. “Maybe. But you’re still standing here.”

For a moment, neither of them moved. The tension felt alive — pulsing, sharp, undeniable.

Then Scarlett dropped her cigarette, crushed it under her heel, and leaned closer. “You should get inside,” she said quietly. “The city isn’t safe at night.”

Elena opened her mouth to respond, but Scarlett was already walking away — dark coat flowing, confidence in every step.

Elena stood there, heart pounding, watching until Scarlett’s car disappeared into the night.

Only then did she whisper to herself, “What are you doing to me?”

---

Back in her mansion, Scarlett poured herself a glass of whiskey and stared out the window at the city lights. Her phone buzzed with a message from one of her men.

> We followed her home. No trouble.

Scarlett typed back one word.

> Good.

She took a slow sip of her drink, eyes fixed on the night sky.

This wasn’t just curiosity anymore. It was something else — something she couldn’t name yet, something dangerous.

A slow smile touched her lips. “Elena Russo,” she whispered. “You’re going to be my next mistake.”